


day 4 - masturbation

by im_on_craic



Series: oihina 30-day nsfw challenge [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 04:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_on_craic/pseuds/im_on_craic
Summary: my tumblr is @ salt-yu !!! lets fight !!!





	day 4 - masturbation

If Hinata had to pinpoint where exactly all of his stress came from, he'd proudly say it was volleyball. Although there was a multitude of other things that stressed him the fuck out, when he traced them back to their roots, it almost always lead him back to volleyball. He guesses that's what happens when you invest every second of your life to a sport, its club, and your teammates. 

 

He can trace back simple things like ' _why am I breaking out so much lately?_ ' to volleyball, and mundane things like ' _why is the bottom of an elephant's foot flat and stumpy_?' to the damned sport, too. (Getting hit in the face with a ball covered in bacteria is not the best for the skin, and because flat feet are good at supporting evenly distributed weight, or so Asahi claims.) For some reason, he realizes the root is always volleyball, especially when it comes to whacky questions.

 

Which is why, when the Grand King begins plaguing his mind, he doesn't even hesitate to blame volleyball for it. Because it'd been through the sport he'd met the damn guy, and through the sport that he continued to meet him in secret. (He just really wants to get better at hitting all types of sets, okay?) They'd meet up on weekends to practice on the sand courts at the closest park, and since Hinata was the one asking for the extra help, he was in charge of providing the snacks/lunches for their rendezvouses. 

 

And then a whole new set of worries started forming, all, of course, stemming from volleyball. Oikawa was fully set on using a ball absolutely filled to the max with air, because it was easier to hit, and more satisfying than a flat ball. Hinata had always prided himself in keeping his personal volleyball in good shape, but according to Oikawa, his ball was a little on the flat side. So he'd had to sort through the mess in the attic, looking for his ball-pump, only to realize the tool was nowhere to be found. Which then meant he had to go to the nearest sports-centric store and buy a new ball-pump, which took a toll on his already dwindling money supply. Said money supply that was rapidly being drained by his own over-achieving self who was intent on providing the best lunches for Oikawa. 

 

So a lot was happening behind-the-scenes of their practices, but Hinata hadn't minded. After all, he was doing this to become a better volleyball player. Volleyball was his mistress, and he'd be damned if he didn't obey her every command. If taking out a little more of his allowances and dealing with their rival was all he had to do, then he'd gladly heed her call. 

 

Except, his worries didn't end just with monetary expenses and lunch boxes. 

 

It was a slow transition from barely standing Oikawa to becoming absolutely infatuated. The guy was incredible, to say the least. He set _for_ Hinata, not _at_ him. And although Hinata was really proud of how far his and Kageyama's in-game connection had grown, the Grand King's sets were something out of this world, incomparable really. He played like a pro, this guy. He loved teasing Hinata during their lunch breaks, but when they were practicing, it was all seriousness, brown eyes scarily focused.  

 

Which is why Hinata tried to desperately convince himself that he just really admired the guy, because he was the kind of player Hinata looked up to, and did not want in his pants. Really. He tried. In fact, he tried so hard to pretend like he was only impressed with Oikawa's playing skills, that the man himself asked him why he'd been looking constipated lately. And when Hinata realized he was denying his true feelings, holding himself back, he had to pay a visit to his neighborhood therapist, Hinata Natsu. He told her the scenario (with fake names, of course), she accepted it, and proceeded to play out how she thought the rest of Hinata's life would go via Barbie Doll theater. Basically, blonde-haired Ken doll dies from literal heartbreak while brown-haired Ken doll lives his life pretty chill because he never knows. Although the whole "dying from heartbreak" seemed a little off, Natsu's Barbie Fortune Telling has never really been that far-off the mark. 

 

So Hinata awkwardly admits to himself that he is, indeed, attracted to the Grand King, and that's the end of that, because Hinata would be a straight fool for actually confessing to such a cool upperclassmen. And he lets himself carry on like that for a while. 

 

Until he waves Oikawa off at the train station one weekend, watches the sweat roll down the taller boy's neck, absolutely drenching the neckline of his t-shirt. And Oikawa's the same sarcastic ass he always is, blowing fake kisses at him from the doorway, pink tongue swiping over his lips every now and then, leaving them gleaming with saliva. And his grin is absolutely wicked, as if the devil-spawn knows what he's doing to Hinata, which, once again, stresses him the fuck out. And then the dude's turning around, walking through the doors of the train station, and Hinata can't forget his retreating back, broad shoulders and all, even when he gets home. 

 

He tries to settle down, watches a few episodes of his favorite anime for a bit in an attempt to drown out those sinful thoughts with jokes. And when that doesn't work, he settles on laying down, tossing his ball up into the air and catching it for a few minutes. Until he gets a vivid flash of memory, of Oikawa glancing at him from the other side of the net, mischievous caramel eyes focused on him only. 

 

Any composure Hinata had is thrown out the window then, and he doesn't even try to stop his hand from crawling into the front of his shorts. The last shred of his sanity warns him to cut that shit out, because the Grand King sees him as nothing more but a shrimp, but the reminder of the Grand King's voice teasing him basically overrules it. Then all he can think about is Oikawa's voice, the placid tone it takes when informing Hinata on how accommodating different hitters works, the feather-light tease it takes when Natsu drops by and he coos at her, the near damn malicious tone when he talks about his own rivals. 

 

And Hinata must be into some freaky shit, because his mind sets itself firmly on Oikawa's voice when he's being mean, the way his words are sharper, and his voice lower. The idea of Oikawa manhandling him, pushing his face into the mattress, makes Hinata's breath hitch, and helps his swelling member reach its full potential. When his dick is throbbing in his hands, and he's pumping lotion into his palm, of course his mind brings up their last time together. 

 

It's all sweaty, golden skin, chestnut curls sticking to the nape of his neck, and Hinata wants to burry his head there, bask in the musky scent of him. His hips jerk a little into his palm, and he recalls the way Oikawa had bid him farewell, the plush lips sending kiss after kiss, lips slick. How he wishes those lips were on him now, claiming his mouth, forcing that slick tongue inside of it. And maybe later, inside somewhere else, licking him open until he's mewling. 

 

Hinata groans, bites down on his lips, keeps tugging at his cock. The sloppy sounds of self-pleasure fill the room, and Hinata briefly wonders if real sex sounds the same way. The thought of being that intimate with Oikawa, someone who's never seen him that way, sends tingles down his spine, and he barely contains the moan that slips from his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut, only to be bombarded with more images of Oikawa.

 

His cock is throbbing painfully now, and with each pump he gives himself, it only gets worse. The only relief he feels is in his mind, Oikawa's voice telling him he's _doing good, getting better, Hina-chan_. And maybe it's that teasing voice ringing in his ears, or the memory of Oikawa standing close behind him, guiding Hinata's body in the correct way, that makes his stomach coil tightly. He can't stop the groaning then, bites down on his lip to at least be quieter, but he's remembering all too clearly everything he likes about Oikawa. 

 

Everything feels wrong, touching himself to someone who's trying to help him improve, but when he rolls his hips into his hand, it feels so undeniably _good_ , and worth it.

 

And when sticky pleasure spurts out onto his abdomen, and the jingling of Oikawa's teasing laughter rings in his ears, Hinata doesn't feel the least bit shameful. 

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @ salt-yu !!! lets fight !!!


End file.
